


Beauty and the [Were]Beast

by Lady_Akuma_Wolf



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, The Watch - BBCA TV Series
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angua and Cheery Friendship, Enemies to Friends, F/F, F/M, Human Experimentation, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Other, suicide idealation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Akuma_Wolf/pseuds/Lady_Akuma_Wolf
Summary: Cheery was abducted off the streets of Ankh-Morpork to serve as the forensic investigator for the Unseen University when an unknown assailant targets its members with a horrible poison, one the UU cannot identify. To keep her scared and on-target, they chain a monster in her quarters, a huge wolf with far more intelligence than most would expect from a wild, dangerous beast.As time winds on, the pair learn they'd better team up and watch each other's backs if they want to stay alive.Show!verse.
Relationships: Cheery Littlebottom & Angua von Uberwald
Kudos: 1





	Beauty and the [Were]Beast

**Author's Note:**

> I have watched the show a few times and will be buying the books ASAP, so I apologize if this isn't compliant with the canon of the books. I saw the first episode and fell in love with these two characters, and then this idea followed shortly afterward.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS/SPOILERS: physical, mental, and emotional abuse, panic attack, attempted sexual assault, suicide ideation, purposeful misgendering.

Some days, Cheery couldn’t remember what the sky looked like. 

Well, she could – on good days, she could even somewhat see it through the fog and dust and grimy glass far out of reach of anything she could compile to try to reach them – even if they didn’t have bars on them (which they were, not that that would’ve stopped her) to try and escape.

But seeing it wasn’t the point. 

It was the fact she hadn’t been outside to feel the sun on her face, feel the rare rainstorm on her skin or the wind in her hair. She hadn’t smelled the stench of the city (though there was more than enough of that with the experiments she was performing) …

...it was the  _ principle _ of it. And the inability to go outside any time she wanted and look up to see the sun or moon and stars or feel the  breeze or go for a walk through the city... it reminded her too much of where she came from, something she wanted desperately to forget.

That, the big lock and draw bolt on the outside of the door, the guards that were on the other side of it with orders to maim but not kill, the blah tan stone walls, battered wood floorboards, barred windows, and decrepit fireplace did not make for very pleasant living arrangements.

She tried again to dab the blood from her still-bleeding lip and winced at her stupidity; she was smarter than that, she wasn’t sure what had come over her beyond sheer desperation to escape, and the knowledge that some of the guards didn’t think with their upstairs brain (if they even had one). She just wanted out... so when it was just the two guards who always eyed her like a she was a prostitute standing on the edge of an alleyway... she made them an offer.

Turned out to be a very,  _ very _ bad idea.

She was just lucky they had only beaten her, and not  also forced themselves on her.

With a huff, she threw the dirty rag onto the worktable next to vials of blood, slides, microscopes, tubes, glass jars, and other forensic and/or scientific tools and utensils. They no longer brought up the bodies after she attempted to make shivs out of the rib bones of the guards’ fallen comrades and lock picks out of pieces of her tools. The trouble she’d gotten into for that stunt... didn’t bear repeating. 

Her back was still raw and sore.

The Alchemist’s Guild had removed her from the streets for running her own Freelance Answers business when she’d been able to discern a poison used by the Assassin’s Guild in the basement of the House of  Seamstresses she was renting for a steal after she was able to figure out the type of sedative a certain gang was using on the employees of the House because they preferred their sexual partners unconscious. The only good thing about her abduction had been they’d allowed her to pack a bag of belongings (all while being supervised so she didn’t pack anything which could be used as a weapon against them).

Turned out the Assassin’s Guild had a rejected Alchemist making their new poisons and had started turning them onto members of the Alchemists, starting with the Council’s personal servants, and had now moved onto their guards and the occasional cleaner of Unseen University. They had tried and failed to figure out what the poison was, or even how their dead were being poisoned.  So, they brought her in to solve the problem they could not.

They didn’t need to leave messages (though of course they did, all dramatics and veiled threats shoved into the mouths of the dead) that stated the Council members were soon to be the next victims, promising all sorts of pain and torture before death.

Footsteps and voices made their way up the hallway outside of Cheery’s prison; she got to her feet and backed away from the door, not knowing if or how they were going to punish her – they had already threatened to cut off her toes, cut out her tongue, her ears... they didn’t dare do too much worse until they had answers.

After they had their answers...

That worry haunted Cheery’s dreams and thoughts every night and day.

Sounds of a scuffle outside in the hall drew Cheery’s attention.

“Fuckin’ animal!” one of the men outside swore.

“Control its head!  _ Control _ its damn head!”

A whip cracked; an animal yelped and snarled.

Cheery frowned in confusion; she hadn’t been aware of any of the Council members having any pets – and she would (not) pity the fool who would whip the pet of a Council member.

So... what the shit.

The bolt was drawn back: two guards entered, one with a loaded crossbow the other with a drawn sword. 

“Stay back!” Crossbow ordered, aiming in Cheery’s general direction.

Crossbow and Sword moved towards Cheery, driving her back towards the rear wall as move men attempted to drag something into the room.

The ‘something’ was a  _ huge _ animal – a dog or wolf, maybe a hybrid of some sort cooked up by a wizard or alchemist – its shoulders were as high as Cheery’s waist, and it was covered by white and soft tan fur at least  as long as her middle finger, if not longer. There was a thick leather collar that glinted with metal sigils fitted snuggly around its throat, with two heavy chains being yanked about by the men. The chain holders looped the chains through a metal spike so a fifth man could pound it into the wall with a gigantic mallet the size of his own head (without the wooden handle).

Chain Holder 1 sneered at Cheery. “Like to see you offer this beast sexual favors in exchange for escape!” he mimed gagging. “Not all of us are into  _ freaks _ __ like you!”

It was an old taunt, from long before her  imprisonment here, and barely stung. Knowing she would regret it but unable to resist fighting back in the only way she could, she tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder and said, “Then you should stop checking out my ass.”

The resulting slap was expected – the snarl of the beast, not so much.

Chain Holder 2 struck it with the whip again, opening a small cut on the thing’s broad back. “You obey  _ us, _ you  _ disgusting _ creature! You guard him! You don’t let him leave! You scare him into getting his job done! Or we’ll skin you alive and gut you!”

Cheery didn’t doubt the man’s word one bit, ignoring again the use of ‘he’ and ‘him’, yet another old taunt of theirs – it was getting tiring – and instead wondered at the orders and threat themselves. Had they trained the beast to obey words such as ‘stay’ and ‘guard’ and obviously used pain to make the creature obey, and hope the creature would scare her too much to try and get out and past it?

And why were the heads of the Unseen University using an animal instead of spells to keep her locked in here? Hoping fear of the huge  wolf-dog to keep her in line and work harder? Testing their newest creation? Something else?

It would work, and that is what mattered. The beast  _ was _ intimidating and seemed smart enough that it wouldn’t be fooled into ingesting any poison she might concoct to feed it – if it was even fed here, which led to bathroom issues.

“Will the animal be let out to relieve itself every so often?” Cheery asked politely. “And it better be able to behave itself. If it knocks over the wrong test I’m performing at the wrong time, the resulting explosion would - ”

“It’ll behave itself,” Sword Man said, “And it’ll be let out twice a day so not to damage your living area.”

Calling a glorified  cell a living area. Hah. It did at least have a fireplace for warmth and an attached latrine...

Not knowing what else to say, Cheery settled for, “Wonderful.”

The men filed out, Sword Man being the last. As he walked by, so quick Cheery wasn’t sure if she’d really seen it or not, he stroked the beast’s cheek as he walked by.

Then the door slammed shut behind him, and Cheery was left alone with her new roommate; said beast did an odd sneeze-snort at the door.

Well, this wasn’t the punishment she’d been expecting.

That, or they wanted her to panic, and sweat, and become manic with worry. But that was neither here nor there right now, she thought with a sigh. “Just what I needed, animal hair blowing around my prison. Should’ve asked them for a damn broom.” She muttered, turning her attention to the beast, shaking her finger at it. “Keep your hair and yourself over there by the door and we won’t have any problems. I have  work that needs doing, and I do not need you getting in the way.”

The animal snarled once at her, and then proceeded to lay down in front of the door and ignore her. 

To Cheery’s surprise over the next few weeks the beast didn’t shed at all, at least that she could see. That, or the collar on the damned thing was for something other than controlling it. It pretty much stayed on the floor next to the door, even though its chains were long enough to almost reach Cheery’s cot next to the fireplace. It didn’t try to get closer for the warmth, wander around and get tangled in the tubes strung between tables, or get its chains tabled around tables or stools. Day or night, it stayed out of the way, almost as if it had understood her comment to the guards and to it. The worst it did was growl at her if she got too close to the door, which she didn’t do often, other than curiosity about the sigils on its collar.

As promised guards came twice a day to take the beast out to relieve itself. Most of the time the guards were not Sword Man and the guards were cruel to the beast whether it fought them or not, whips and kicks and shock-sticks were used to get it to move or stay or on one memorable time after one of the guards slashed a bleeding wound down the beast’s shoulder the beast lunged and seized the man’s arm and shook, immediately dislocating it with a loud  _ pop _ . The sheer  number of shocks they used to get it to let go just about knocked it out.

They of course ignored Cheery’s words that they didn’t need to use violence, that others got it to go where they wanted without such tactics. After they carried their wounded comrade out and the door swung shut behind them, leaving a splatter of blood on the ground and on the dog’s fur. The animal limped away from the door and into the closest corner, even further away from Cheery, and attempted to lick the wound.

“Damn it,” Cheery muttered, grabbing a relatively clean cloth off the nearby table and a bottle of Quick-Clot Serum and headed over to the animal.

Like any cornered, wounded animal, the beast snarled at her, ears pinned against its skull, blue-silver eyes wide. Cheery paused, holding up what was in her hands. 

“I just want to take care of your wound, before you get more blood on the floor or it gets infected.”

Another growl, but slightly softer.

Cheery took a step closer, and then another.

Without warning the cornered dog lunged forwards, jaws snapping less than a foot from Cheery’s face. She scrambled back away from it, crashing painfully into the corner of the closest table.

“Fine!” She spat, frustrated more than anything. “Bleed out! Get sick and die for all I care.”

She did care, a little. The animal was as much a prisoner as she was, it would seem. And she had always had a soft spot for dogs, despite how scary this one was.

Oftentimes, Cheery worked late into the night, becoming more and more frustrated with how little progress she was making with the cases as more piled up. The dreaded threat of punishment and amputation was used on almost a daily basis, though the worse they did was decrease the amount of food she was  given.

So far.

Cheery again tried to argue the case for being given access to bodies again, and her words fell on deaf ears as she had suspected would happen, and the reply was that she had more than enough samples, and the longer she dragged things out the worse things would be for her.

“I’m not dragging things out!” she shouted as the door slammed shut in her face. “I can’t give you answers when I don’t have all the pieces to the puzzle!”

Silence. Of  _ freaking _ course. Get us answers with only a third – or less – of the questions answered.

Three days later, another murder happened; the archchancellor’s scribe cut his fingers off while doing his notes. As usual, they collected all the samples on her list and brought them directly to her, leaving the bodies in their Cooling Room.

“Here are those samples you wanted, Cheery,” the guard said, setting the samples of blood, tissues, hair, and organs (including a finger) down on the table, the jars clattering against each other. He didn’t leave right away as the guards usually did, which was odd. Instead, he stood and watched her, seeming not to care that she didn’t acknowledge him.

The door had shut, which was weird; the guard was alone, which was strange.

The dog was asleep – or unconscious – in the corner it had curled up five days ago after it had been wounded.

Cheery was pretty sure the guards had stopped feeding it, and Sword Man was only able to let it out once a day, usually in the middle of the night, which led Cheery to wonder if he was doing it on the sly, before or after his shift. Cheery had taken to sharing her food – if what they brought her could really be considered food – when it was awake, but it had stopped eating two days ago and was barely drinking.

It still wouldn’t let Cheery close enough to see the wound very well, let alone treat it. She just hoped it would before the infection killed it. It had for the most part stopped growling at her when she came close, which gave her  encouragement , and further endeared it to her.

“I love your hair,” commented the guard, stepping closer to her. “The braids and color become you.”

“...thank you?” Cheery replied hesitantly, taking a step backward, away from the man. Come to think of it, he wasn’t one of the regular guards. He was a new face.

And he wasn’t wearing the same colors all the rest of the guards always wore.

Something wasn’t right.

None of the guards ever used her name; Cheery doubted they even knew what it was.

The guards always came at least in threes – one to watch the dog, one to guard the door, and the other to deliver whatever it was to be delivered.

The guard advanced again. “Your skin... it looks so soft...”

Cheery backed up again, and her back hit the wall. “I think you should leave now,” she said firmly. “I need to get back to my experiments. You know, figuring out who is killing your guild’s people?”

The guard smirked. “The more of them who die... what does that matter to me?” He stepped into Cheery’s personal space. “I’m here for you.”

Cheery swallowed hard. “For me?”

This couldn’t be good.

Shit.

The man reached a grimy hand up and touched Cheery’s braided hair, stroking it. “They sent me to kill you,” he said softly. “They won’t care what happens to you before... or after.”

The man – he must be an assassin, not a guard in the employ of the UU – seized a handful of her braids, making her wince as he slammed her into the stone wall.

“Nice of you to poison your mongrel guard for me,” he murmured, obviously not having noticed by sight or smell the rotting wound on the creature as he leaned into her body, and she struggled to ignore the hard part pressed into her. “If it wasn’t for how the smell of animal blood makes me nauseous... though, it  _ would _ make a nice hearthrug.” he sighed, dragging a small blade down her cheek. “Anyways,” he knocked her onto her cot with a back fist, the metal plate on his fingerless gloves effectively splitting her lip and cutting a thin, stinging wound down her cheek. He stood over her, cornering her, undoing his belt. “let’s have some fun. And afterward, I’ll take your hair for my collection.”

This must be The Barber, the assassin who scalped his victims, alive or dead, for trophies.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid! _ Cheery scolded herself for not having something,  _ anything _ , near her cot that was heavy enough to be some sort of a weapon... but she hadn’t ever expected something like this.

The man dropped to his knees; Cheery struck out with a kick, catching him between his spread legs and making swear foully; a second kick struck the assassin’s nose and mouth, bloodying both. She tried to scoot herself backward away from him but before she could make it far, he leaned up and struck at her head with his fist once, twice, three times, knocking her into the stone wall with each strike. The third contact with the wall sent Cheery’s vision gray.

When she tried to kick him again, he blocked her and grabbed one of her ankles and yanked, easily blocking the second kick she sent at his chest, grabbing that ankle and twisting, trying to get her to twist over to avoid the pain, but Cheery fought, knowing the pain in her ankle would be far preferable to what the assassin wanted to do to her, but she failed, and unable to control her body enough to keep the assassin from rolling her onto her stomach and seized the waistband of her trousers and yanked.

Over the ringing, and the panic, there was something else.

Snarling.

Crunching.

Clanging.

Screaming.

Gurgling.

Crunching.

Silence.

Struggling to get her arms to work as her vision still spun, she tried to push herself up against the wall, clutching her trousers with one hand and the other up in front of her as some form of protection, eyes blinking rapidly and chest heaving...

… only to see through her clearing vision the assassin – well, his body and what was left of his crushed neck – on the floor between her and the beast, the crushed remains of his head feet away from his body.

The huge wolf-dog was also panting, blood and saliva dripping from its open mouth. The paw belonging to the injured and now infected shoulder was held up. The chains were still attached to the collar around its neck, trailing behind it but no longer attached to the wall.

It had yanked itself free to save her.

“Thank you,” Cheery told it softly.

To her utter surprise, the beast dipped its head once, as if nodding.

She had just imagined that... right?

Footsteps.

Voices.

The beast spun hastily around with a snarl, limping in front of Cheery who quickly adjusted her pants back up around her waist and got to her feet as the door just about blasted open and bounced off the wall to admit Sword Man, Chain Man 2, and a handful of other goons spilled into the room, various weapons in hand.

“You’re a bit late, you know,” Cheery informed them, staying leaning against the wall so they wouldn’t see her inability to stand with her head injury. “The animal you left to keep me in here and  _ scare  _ me had to  _ protect  _ me.”

One of the goons carrying a Shock-Stick stomped over to the beast, grabbed one of the chains off the floor and struck at it, making it yelp in pain.

“Stop it!” cried Cheery. “Leave it alone! Please!”

Asshole Goon sneered at her. “You have no  _ idea _ what this  _ thing _ is capable of! Just because you’re both monsters – ”

The beast shoved him with its body, making him stumble away, but not hard enough to drop the chains, so he yanked hard, attempting to drag it away even as it struggled.

“Jeffy,  _ enough.”  _ Sword Man ordered, stepping forwards.

Jeffy scowled at Sword Man. “We have orders – ”

“And I am changing those orders,” Sword Man interrupted. “the animal isn’t going to leave the room chained or unchained, and the last thing we need is our... advisor... stressed and upset and not  performing his best and solving our issue with these murders.”

“Not like it’s  gonna survive much longer anyway, not with that rotting wound!” sniggered Chain Man 2, pointing at the huge dog still standing by Cheery, shaking even as it struggled to stay on its three somewhat-stable legs. “Wonder what kind of freakish monster they’ll put in here next!”

Sword Man rolled his eyes. “Nikk, get this body out of here before the stench sets in, we don’t need his blood contaminating the running tests.” He looked over at Cheery. “Do you need samples from him before we take his body away?”

Cheery nodded and hurried over to one of the tables and grabbed some syringes, scissors, and empty jars. She collected blood, hair, bone, and skin samples from the body, as well as samples of his clothing before nodding to Sword Man that they could remove the body. Goblins were sent in to mop up the blood under the watchful eye of Sword Man, while a guard braved the beast to remove the chains from its collar.

Cheery had already started testing the clothing samples for traces of... well, anything while the beast kept itself between her and the guards tromping in and out of the room, growling when any of them came too close or even looked in their direction.

Finally, Sword Man was the last one remaining. He walked over to where Cheery was examining a hair sample under a microscope backlit by a non-flickering, sun-charged crystal (they wouldn’t give her candles, couldn’t have her starting a fire [and the fire in the fireplace was spelled to not leave the fireplace]).

“What do you want?” Cheery asked curtly when he didn’t say anything, refusing to turn her attention away from what she was doing.

“If you can...” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “help her. Save her. Please.”

_ That _ got Cheery’s attention. None of the guards had used feminine pronouns, either for her or for the dog-wolf. “Her?” she asked, hoping for clarification.

He jerked his head at the beast, who was still somehow on its paws, head lowered as it stared at Sword Man, a soft, low growl emerging from its throat.

Cheery looked down at her new protector. “Her?” she repeated, her voice just as soft as she looked back up at the guard.

He nodded, eyes pleading. “Please,” he murmured and left without another word.

As soon as the door was shut, the bolts on the outside slid into place, and the guards’ footsteps faded into silence, the beast limped over to the floor in front of it and collapsed.

“Shit!” Cheery swore, running over to  it her, snagging the clean rag and Quick-Clot Serum still where she had left it a week ago as well as a Wound Cleanser and dropped to her knees next to the beast.

The beast growled, though nowhere near as threateningly as she had before, as she tried to move away from Cheery, her legs giving out under her.

“Enough,” Cheery ordered her. “You just saved my life, you might not want to trust me, but the asshole of a human was right; if you don’t let me heal you, the sepsis in that wound will spread through your bloodstream and kill you, very, very painfully. Not to mention we’re both stuck in here. Please,” she added. “...don’t leave me alone in here.”

To Cheery’s utter surprise, the animal stared at her for a long moment, eyes unblinking; then she flopped over onto her side with a groan and a sigh, eyes sliding shut, leaving the festering wound bare. Her breathing was hard and slightly ragged, whether from pain or exhaustion, or both, Cheery wasn’t sure. 

Carefully, Cheery smoothed the fur away from the wound, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “I’ll be right back,” she informed the beast. “I need to get some other tools, ok?”

Nothing. Not that she had expected one – it was just a dog, or wolf, or hybrid of some sort, right? Just an animal.

She was beginning to question that assumption.

Cheery grabbed a bucket and headed into the privy, the perk was the small waterfall on one wall with – surprisingly – fresh water. It was icy cold to shower in, but it was far preferable to going unbathed. After that, she grabbed a Numbing Tonic, clean gloves, scissors, a needle and string pack, and a scalpel.

This wasn’t going to be fun, or pretty.

Or easy.

And quite possibly impossible.

When she  knelt down again next to the beast, she said, “Alright, this isn’t going to be fun for either of us, but I need to remove the dead skin from around the edges of the wound, understand? If  I don’t it won’t heal, and it’ll keep being infected.”

The beast lifted her head and held her gaze unblinkingly for several long heartbeats again, intelligence gleaming in their depths. Then she blinked and the moment was gone. With a deep, deep sigh, she laid back down on the ground.

Taking that as a good sign – the whole seeming-to-understand-a-lot-more-than-just-basic-commands thing could be pondered later – Cheery applied the Numbing Tonic liberally around the wound before giving it a few minutes. Once she was sure it had kicked in, she smoothed the beast’s thick fur out of the way and got to work debriding the wound. The dog twitched, she growled, sighed, and huffed. But she never got up, never opened her eyes, or snapped, or growled. Nothing.

“There, all done!” Cheery said, snipping the string of the last stitch. “They’ll have to come out in about two weeks-” if we’re both still alive, that is “-and you’ll be all better!”

The beast sat up, flailing a little at the odd feeling of the Numbing Tonic in her shoulder, doing a  whole body shake once she was on her feet. Cheery stayed where she was, gathering up the supplies into the tray she had snatched off the nearest table. She didn’t dare move yet – the beast’s head was level with her own, if not a little higher, she was so big.

And the fresh reminder of what the beast had done to her attacker’s head was also fresh in her mind,  so , needless to say, the jaws were a very formidable weapon.

“You’re an impressive size, aren’t you, girl?” she murmured, finally meeting her gaze. There  _ was _ intelligence there, compassion and something Cheery couldn’t name. Not  really sure what came over her, she reached out a hand, palm up, and offered it to the beast. The beast grumbled softly, eyes on her hand, before backing slowly away.

Cheery allowed her arm to drop back to her side, trying to not let the animal’s rejection sting; for all she knew the beast had been treated kindly and then abused, and didn’t know who to trust, or had been betrayed by someone she trusted; Cheery could relate to that. She had allowed her to feed her in the past week, and let her care for her wound.

The beast had also cared enough to slaughter Cheery’s would-be killer. That was a start. She wouldn’t give up.

OoOoO

In the weeks that followed, the beast continued to heal up well. The guards went back to their twice-daily visits of taking the creature out to relieve itself, attaching the chains to the collar and dragging it around, using their Shock-Sticks too liberally for Cheery’s tastes – none would be best, but gods you didn’t need to zap the poor thing every few steps! – and feeding her, though Cheery could tell she was losing weight; Sword Man was apparently  absent again. 

She also didn’t spend all her time in front of the door or the nearby corner. She would sometimes lay in the walkway between the tables, close – but not too close – to wherever Cheery was working.

Cheery made minimal headway as Guild parties continued to die. Problem was, they were dying differently. One would look like he had clawed his  genitals off and then bled to death; another choked to death; a third died seemingly peacefully in his sleep. The only thing linking all the dead was their fingers and toes all turned purple right after death, dark and swollen as if their circulation had been severely restricted. 

It went without saying her ‘hosts’ were getting impatient.

“Damn it,” Cheery muttered, straightening up from a set of microscopes where she was comparing samples of the two latest victims. “where did I put that Poisoner’s Handbook...”

Papers were shuffled, notes tossed about, piles of books searched, and trays moved. Nothing.

A muffled whine drew her attention to the creature. “Not now, sweetheart, I – ”

The beast had a book in its mouth. The purple binding of the book marked it as the book she had been searching for.

Shaking, Cheery  knelt down and took the book from the  beast and set it aside. “How-how did you know what I was looking for?” she murmured. “You’re smarter than I first thought.”

The wolf-dog was sitting upright, ears alert as Cheery talked.

“ _ How _ smart are you?” Cheery questioned, mind scrambling on exactly how to get answers from the creature. “You’re not just a dog, or wolf, or whatever, are you?”

The beast huffed twice.

“You’re not?”

A single huff.

Heart racing, Cheery scrambled to her feet, searching for a larger piece of parchment and sketching out the letters of the alphabet as well as ‘yes’ and ‘no’ options, and then laying it down onto the floor between her and the wolf.

The beast backed up a few paces, looking from her to the parchment and back, ears half-way back and head lowered, growling softly.

“Hey, hey,” Cheery held her hand out in front of her, palm out, hoping whatever – whoever?! – this creature was, would understand she meant her no harm, wasn’t going to hurt her. “I’m not going to hurt you, beautiful. I promise.”

The beast stared at her again, eyes wide and unblinking. Cheery held the gaze, willing the creature to understand. Even if she did mean harm... there was no way even with a scalpel in hand that Cheery could ever hope to defend herself against the wolf if she decided to attack – the assassin was proof enough of that.

After thirty-seven rapid heartbeats later – Cheery had been counting – the wolf came forward – albeit rather warily – and sat down in front of the  parchment and waited. 

Cheery inhaled deeply. “Ok. Ok, then,” she looked up at the creature. “If I ask a basic question, can you, I don’t know, paw ‘yes’ or ‘no’, or spell out the words?”

This time, the creature pawed at the word ‘yes’.

“Oh my...” Cheery swallowed hard. “I... I take it you’re here against your will?”

‘Yes’.

“Are you - well, were you – just a wolf or dog? Did they make you smart? Like in the human sense? With magic?”

The answer this time was ‘no’.

Cheery ran a hand over the top of her head, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Are you... are you human? Changed into this shape or – ”

The wolf grumbled and got to her feet and started to turn away.

“Wait! No! I’m sorry, please, I won’t ask that, if it’s private.” Cheery pleaded. “Please...”

The beast looked back over her shoulder at her, and with a huff came back over, looking at Cheery almost reproachfully. 

“I’m sorry,” Cheery apologized again. “Can I ask your name?”

The name A-n-g-u-a was spelled out.

Cheery smiled. “ Angua ? Did I say that right?”

This time, the beast nodded instead of pawing at the parchment.

“ Angua . It’s a beautiful name. Just like you.”

Angua wrinkled her muzzle and sneezed twice.

“Yes, you are! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” Cheery informed her companion with a chuckle. “Do – ”

The beast –  Angua – whipped her head towards the door and growled softly. Understanding, Cheery swiftly folded up their conversation parchment and tucked it inside a book and hurried back to her microscope.

Moments later, the door opened, and the head of the Unseen University’s guard  Terref stormed into the room.

“You’ve had over a month, and you still haven’t gotten us answers! Remind me why we don’t just get rid of you and find someone else?!”

“I know it’s not ingested or inhaled,” Cheery said, motioning to her notes. “But without examining the bodies I can’t tell you if it’s injected or  – ”

A slap silenced Cheery and sent her to her knees, tasting blood immediately. To the side, she could hear  Angua snarling and struggling against her chains, hear the zaps of the guards Shock-Sticks as the beast fought to come to her rescue once again.

Terref glared over at the guards. “If you cannot silence that monster, then  _ dispose of it.  _ We can always make another!”

“ _ No!” _ Cheery shouted, climbing to her feet. “Don’t hurt her, please – she's just worried about me!” she looked over at her beast, holding out a hand to her, begging human and beast. “Sweetheart, I’m ok, please stop fighting them! I don’t want them to hurt you!  _ Please! _ ”

Angua stopped fighting the chains almost instantly after Cheery’s pleas, but her lips stayed curled in a silent snarl. 

Terref looked between the two, eyebrows raised. “It listens to you. How... interesting. Regardless, the leaders expect answers from you, and  _ soon.” _

Cheery through her hands up into the air. “I need to look at the latest bodies! Take me to them and have a guard on me, if you’re so worried. There's only so much I can do with just samples!”

Sword Man stepped forwards. “I can take him to the Cooling and keep watch,” he offered. “They did say they wanted answers by any means necessary.”

Terref scowled. “You really think you can handle that much responsibility, Torrac?”

Torrac nodded. “Yes, sir. I want answers, too, before they come for the likes of us.”

Terref blanched, obviously not having thought he himself was at risk. “Fine! But on your own skin be it if he pulls one over on you!” he spun and walked away, taking the rest of the guards with him.

Once Cheery had gathered up all the supplies she suspected she would need, she went to Torrac, who was waiting by the door.

Angua also padded over, looking up at Cheery expectantly.

“No, you have to stay here,”  Tarroc informed her.

Angua grumbled, looking between the two.

Torrac sighed heavily and  knelt down in front of the beast. “Be careful how much you defend her,” he said. “or you’ll both be  inhumed and I won’t be able to stop it.”

Cheery stared down at  Tarroc , floored he had used her proper pronoun, and seemed to be concerned about her and  Angua’s well-being.

Angua curled her lips in a silent, scary snarl before sitting down with a heavy sigh.

Torrac patted her head once and got to his feet and turned his attention to Cheery. “Can I help you carry anything?”

Well, if he was going to offer...

Cheery handed him the wooden crate of clean sample containers. “I’ll take as many samples as I can while being given access to the bodies.”

Torrac nodded. “Good plan; the bodies in the Cooling have held their... not sure what it’s called, but they look like they just died.”

“For once a spell hasn’t backfired?” Cheery quipped without thinking as she packed the last of her scalpels; a moment later she bit her tongue and eyed the guard carefully.

Instead of being irate – or worse –  Torrac snorted. “At least that’s been noticed yet. Unless there’s another wizard out there who’s spell rebounded on him like the Archchancellor.”

Cheery, having heard the rumors of the Archchancellor who could no longer verbalize curse words, had to smile. “Perhaps their living quarters are cold all the time.”

“Perhaps,”  Torrac agreed. Motioning to the door he said, “shall we?”

When Cheery nodded,  Torrac opened the door and  actually bowed a little, motioning for Cheery to exit  first.

Outside, Chain Man One and a guard Cheery referred to as Baldie (for obvious reasons) were stationed outside the door on either side. Baldie ignored her completely like he always did; Chain Man One leered at her.

“Take the beast out to relieve itself and bring it back here,”  Torrac ordered them. “Use as  _ little _ force as  necessary ; if I see wounds on the creature, heads will roll!”

Without waiting for an answer,  Torrac led Cheery away.

“They won’t hurt her, will they?” Cheery asked worriedly.

Torrac glanced back at her, his lips pressed in a fine, white line. “She’s tough,” he said instead of answering her right away, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “They won’t do anything with lasting damage again like that wound that got infected; they lost two weeks’ pay for that stunt.” He halted and opened a random door. “Here we are.”

Cheery entered and felt eyebrows shoot up.  Torrac hadn’t been exaggerating. All but the first two bodies were laid out on their own tables, with parchment nailed by the feet with where and when they were found dead, anything noticed about the death (blood, vomit, seizures, etc.), and what was known about their activities the days leading up to their death.

She put on gloves to protect herself and started working her way from one body to the next, examining the skin, hair, eyes, nails, mouth, jotting down her own notes on those started by whoever wrote the initial information down. She rolled them onto their sides so she could examine their backs.

A couple of hours in, Cheery started noticing a trend in the bodies no one had thought to mention to her, be it on purpose or oversight; all the bodies and bruises in different locations; middle of the back, wrist, thigh, scalp, finger.

It was a lead. At least, Cheery hoped it was.

Carefully, she took samples of the bruised skin and the cloth that would’ve been in contact with that area. She didn’t say anything to  Torrac . He was being kind to her, and to  Angua , and for that she was grateful. 

_ But _ .

For all she knew he was just pretending, hoping she would let something slip he or they could use against her. She just hoped that if her new discovery and subsequent answers would prove her usefulness to her captors, and she wouldn’t be inhumed after she was finished.

Torrac was seated next to the door, sharpening his sword and then reading a book as she worked, obviously not too interested in watching her as closely as he probably should have. In the light coming from one of the skylights – kept sparklingly clear, unlike her dirty ones – setting the man’s orange hair alight.

Anything she took would be searched before she was left alone, that Cheery was almost positive of – not like if she found anything she could use as a weapon beyond her scalpels and scissors would do any good against the guards... or against Angua, if something happened and the beast came after her.

Gods, she hoped not. Not Angua.

Chewing on her lip Cheery forced herself to focus back to the tasks at hand.

Right after that winding thought, she found a small dagger in the boot of one of the dead guards, the whole thing blade tip to the base of the hilt was barely longer than her hand. A glance up at  Torrac showed he was deeply engrossed in whatever he was reading. Deciding to take the risk, Cheery slipped the weapon into her boot, draping her pant leg back over it to hide it. The dagger was slim enough to not dent her boot or pant leg and went unnoticed.

Hopefully.

The light had almost completely dimmed through the windows when Cheery was finally done but firmly stated that she would probably need access to the bodies again in a few days. Carefully she nestled the glass jars with all the samples with rags to keep them from rattling  around and stacked the parchment she had copied out into her own code  all of her notes about the bodies, including the odd discolored skin.

Torrac got to his feet and stretched, running his fingers through his orange hair. “What would you like me to carry?” he asked, coming over.

Not wanting to trust him with the samples and glass vials of blood and other bodily fluids/body parts, Cheery handed the guard the books and sheaves of parchment. “Thank you,” she told him. If it been any other guard, she would not have trusted them with a dead rat let alone precious samples or her notes. Torrac was different, so far. How long that would continue, she had no idea.

“You’re welcome,” replied  Torrac with a smile, taking the items in hand. “When you need to come back to examine the bodies, let me know. I’ll check in with you every day.”

They didn’t speak as they walked back to Cheery’s prison. Guards sneered or made lude comments when they passed going wherever, making Cheery flush with embarrassment, cheeks flaming by the time the two of them reached her quarters, even  Torrac’s cheeks were colored, jaw clenched and ticking. The guards on the door were absent, but the bolts were locked in place.

After setting his armload on the nearest table,  Torrac murmured, “Take care, Cheery. I’ll check in with you gals tomorrow.”

He left before Cheery could say anything, pulling the door shut behind him and sliding the bolts over, locking her in.

Cheery looked down at  Angua . “Well, that was odd, wasn’t it?”

Angua nodded.

Cheery collapsed onto the nearest stool and rested her elbows on her knees. “Did the guards hurt you, taking you out and back in?” She didn’t see any fresh wounds, but that didn’t mean anything.

The beast shook her head.

“Good, good,” Cheery sighed heavily. “I’m going to go clean up; I want to get the smell of death off myself.”

Cheery took her time showering, trying to distract herself from thoughts of her ‘job’ here and how much longer it would keep her alive, and instead focused on her companion,  Angua , and what else she could be. She’d been able to figure out what a few of the sigils were on her collar (Containment, Tracking, Control, and Binding were all she’d been able to see and figure out).  Angua had stated she wasn’t a magically enhanced regular wolf or dog, and while it was  possible she was lying, Cheery didn’t think she was. That left the supernatural: a shifter, werewolf, or – as she was starting to suspect – an animal-human transmutation*, or the combination of an animal and a human through alchemy. It would best explain her understanding of languages, ability to read and ‘write’, and control over herself. It wouldn’t be the first – or last – time the wizards in Unseen University experimented on animals; the creature in the sewers was proof of that. It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch for one or more of them to take homeless off the streets to experiment on.

Cheery stepped away from the water when she couldn’t get her teeth to stop chattering, wrung her hair out, and dried herself off, and began to dry off and change. When she exited, she found Angua waiting outside the bathroom door. Cheery was holding the blanket which doubled as a towel in front of her chest since she had accidentally dropped her sleep shirt on her got and hadn’t noticed.

“Don’t trust me out of your sight, do you?” Cheery asked with a small smile.

Angua woofed softly once, but when Cheery turned around to go back in the bathroom and her top got caught in her wet hair, the creature snarled.

Cheery spun around, startled. “What is it, Angua?” She looked around the room anxiously, but nothing seemed amiss in the room, no one but them was inside.

Angua stalked around until she could see Cheery’s pink-striped back and growled deep in her throat.

Confused, Cheery looked over her shoulder and then caught sight of her reflection in the thin mirror in the bathroom. “Ah, the whip marks?”

Amidst the growling,  Angua barked once.

Cheery tugged the sleep shirt down until the healing scars were covered. “Back when I had some access to the bodies, I took some bones to make weapons, and wire for lock picks.” She plopped onto her cot with a deep sigh. “I tried to escape; they... weren’t happy with that. Especially when I almost made it.”

Angua grumbled, ears pinned  back and lips curled.

“I’m ok now,” Cheery assured her. “I have you, don’t I?”

Angua settled down some at that comment and barked once in agreement.

OoOoO

The blowing breeze of the late afternoon turned into a wild, violent storm after night fell, slamming dust and lighter garbage against the walls and roof, twisting in through  each and every crack and crevice it could. Its tendrils made the flames about the room dance with madness before shuttering out.

Cheery, asleep on an open book of notes and lists of poisons from various animals which could be absorbed through the skin, noticed nothing.

Soon after full night fell the wind snuffed out the fire heating their room – guess the alchemists couldn’t be bothered to magically protect her prison – sending them into darkness as the sun-charged crystals also faded away.

Angua, asleep against the door in her usual spot, awoke to her companion’s panic shortly after that.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Cheery murmured, cursing her forgetfulness to charge any of the crystals with the sunlight from earlier, leaving her utterly  _ nothing, nothing _ to see with. “Not the darkness...”

Cheery couldn’t breathe; even with the room being pitch black she could sense her vision going, the edges a static of gray shades as she tried to feel along the edge of the table only to trip over a bucket she’d left earlier on the floor for scraps of paper and such to burn, sending it noisily across the stone floor as she fell onto the floor.

_ Not the darkness...  _

_ The dark in the dark... _

_ I can’t... I can’t let it get me... _

_ I don’t want... _

_ I need to be free... _

_ One way or another... _

While Cheery was attempting to get control over her swirling thoughts and control them enough to find her way to her cot and not just lay there on the floor, something padded unusually noisily over to her;  Angua . The beast, sensing her distress had come to her side, woofing softly and for the first time initiated touch, nosing her muzzle under one of Cheery’s clenched hands until it rested on the top of her hairy neck.

“ Angua ?” asked Cheery, hating the quiver in her voice as she threaded her fingers through the beast’s fur. “I’m sorry, beautiful, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She stopped, soaking up the comfort she was offered of the monstrous being laying against her chest, solid, warm, and safe – something she hadn’t had for... she had lost count of the number of weeks, months, maybe even years since she’d felt this  safe; which was foolish, since she was imprisoned, but it was the truth. “Can you... can you see? Or, at least smell your way around?”

Woof.

“Could you... help me back to my cot?”

Woof.

“Lead the way, then.”

Placing a hand on  Angua’s back, Cheery followed her guidance, slow and steady, as the wolf led her around another stool, the tables, and a stack of books that had fallen and Cheery had postponed picking up until later when her thoughts were honing in on a possible answer. Not once did she run into anything.

Angua stopped next to Cheery’s cot, woofing again.

“Thank you,  Angua ,” Cheery said, reaching out a hand to feel for the bedding before dropping herself down onto it. “And... I’m sorry. I just... the darkness... and the dark in the dark. It’s...” She didn’t know how to explain it. Not without losing it even more. Instead, she took a deep, steadying breath and said, “Anyway, thank you. Go back to sleep. I. ..I’ll be ok.”

Angua barked softly. Twice.

And then laid down on the floor next to Cheery’s cot with a deep sigh.

Not wanting to push her luck but desperate for the offered comfort, Cheery dragged one of the two blankets she’d been given over herself and lay down as close to  Angua as she dared – the second blanket was the one she’d used as a towel earlier and it was drying by the cooling fire – and listened to Angua’s breathing, letting the sound and knowledge that the beast wouldn’t let anything happen to her calm her enough to finally fall asleep.

Cheery woke up to the sound of rain slamming against the windows above her prison, and a face full of fur. For a brief, panicked moment she thought her beard and regrown overnight, sending her up onto an elbow and patting her face with the other hand before she figured  out she’d been cuddling  Angua . It seemed like the fire had yet to restart itself and the room was chilly, even with Cheery wearing warmer clothes and under two blankets, but cuddling up to  Angua , Cheery was plenty warm.

Eventually,  Angua must have woken up. She rolled onto her back, acting more dog-like than Cheery had ever seen her be, and stared over at the tall dwarf.

“Do you want me to move?” asked Cheery softly. “Or you can leave if you want. Thank you again for last night.”

Angua huffed twice and wriggled on her back so she was a little closer to Cheery and nuzzled her hand. Taking the hint, Cheery stroked  Angua’s fur, still surprised at the wolf’s change in at first being almost like a wild, untouchable animal and now being very dog-like. Not that Cheery minded.

“I don’t know how... how much time I have left,” Cheery murmured. “I think I’m close to figuring the murders out and after I do that... I can hope they find me useful and decide to not dispose of me. But I... I’m not hopeful.”

Angua whined, ears slightly back as if she was worried.

Cheery smiled humorlessly. “After I ran away from home, shaved my beard, and started becoming myself here in Ankh-Morpork, I was always looking over my shoulder, always being careful...” she snorted. “fat lot that did me, huh? Still got snatched off the street and brought here.”

Under Cheery’s fingers,  Angua grumbled.

As if they were both speaking and carrying on a real conversation, Cheery said, “It’s ok,  Angua . Dying up here is better than disappearing down there. I got to meet you, for one.” This time, a real smile graced her lips. “And for that, I’m glad. I don’t think anyone has ever been as kind to me, seen me as me, as you have these past... what is it, weeks? Over a month?” she sighed. “Dying up here, by their hand or mine is better than being taken by the Dark in the Dark...”

Cheery shuddered, fingers unconsciously clenching  Angua’s fur; the beast did an odd growl-whine, something between a protest and question.

“The Dark... if you’re different, it takes you. It's drawn to difference, to the strange or exploring. My mother shaved her beard, and it took her. When I knew I had to become myself, when I knew I desperately wanted to shave my beard, I knew I had to leave. So... I did. And I have never looked back. I’ll take living briefly as myself than a lifetime of suffering a lie.”

Angua , who had been listening with rapt attention, suddenly got up and trotted off. Taking the signal to get up, Cheery forced herself to sit up, the single long braid she’d put in her hair after showering in the ice water fell over her shoulder as she attempted to rub the sleep and tears out of her eyes.

“Woof!”

Angua had returned, the folded conversation parchment in her jaws; she spat it out into Cheery’s lap. Curious, Cheery unfolded it between them.

Slowly, with great care,  Angua spelled a statement. “Do not ever give up, Cheery. Even in the blackest night, I will find you.”

Speechless, Cheery felt a tear running down her cheek. “The sweetest, most loving thing anyone has ever said to me, and it comes from a magical wolf. Thank you, Angua. I... I wish I could express better how much that means to me.”

Instead of spelling anything else out,  Angua came over and sat down next to Cheery – they were about the same height when Cheery was sitting on the floor – and rested her huge, furry head on Cheery’s shoulder, snuggling her snout under Cheery’s chin. 

They stayed like that until they heard footsteps in the hall and the bolts on the door being drawn back.

OoOoO

While  Torrac took  Angua outside, a low-level wizard recharged Cheery’s crystals and a servant restarted the fire in the fireplace. Food was brought in and set on a table.

And then the morning was ruined by  Terref’s appearance.

“Well?” he  demanded, arms folded over his chest. “Have you found anything yet? We let you have access to the bodies as you wanted.”

Cheery replied hesitantly. “I have a couple of ideas that I am researching. I should have an answer in a few days or so – ”

“You have one.”

“I don’t - some of these tests take time!” retorted Cheery, frantic. “They cannot be rushed!”

Terref sneered at her. “Do different tests, then. You have until noon tomorrow.” He walked out before Cheery could protest further, lashing out with his walking stick at  Angua who had been snuck back in and was sitting in front of the open door;  Angua took the strike silently, which wasn’t like her.

As soon as the door swung shut, the beast shook herself and came over and rested her head in Cheery’s lap, her tail wagging slightly, her eyes alight with confidence.

Cheery licked her lips and said, “Well, let’s see what we can discover, eh? I hope your confidence in me isn’t misplaced.” She stroked the top of the wolf’s head.

Two woofs.

Several hours into the night – or maybe early morning, based on the hint of light in the sky – and multiple tests, swear words, and notes later, Cheery stripped off her gloves with a heavy sigh. She had been right; the poison was absorbed through the skin, in different places on each victim, and in different concentrations, thus the different manners and times of death. 

The man who had clawed his genitals off had had his underwear soaked in it; the one who died in his sleep his nightshirt’s collar was spotted with the poison and probably his pillowcase, as well. The reason everyone’s fingers discolored was their rings or bracelets had been dipped in the stuff.

The antidote, for now, was a change in cleaning staff and cleaning products. It would take a little more time to figure out the ingredients to make a proper antidote, something she hoped they would give her time to do.

At the same time, she didn’t trust them not to show up early and destroy or seize all of her books, work, notes, and equipment. To be safe, she made a second copy of the pertinent notes and fold them with the conversation parchment, and tucked them behind a loose stone in the fireplace. Her satchel with the first-aid kit, some of her spare clothes, and a few other odds and ends were tucked under a loose floorboard.

Then, the pair waited. Cheery continued to fuss with the tests, narrowing the poison to two different salt-water creatures, but she was starting to lean towards the blue-ringed octopus.

Cheery’s concern turned out to be very valid. Less than two hours later,  Terref and a few other high-ranking-looking individuals came in well before the noon bell. “Well?”  Terref demanded. “Have you figured it out?”

Cheery nodded, handing him a legible sheet of parchment with her findings. “The poison is absorbed through the skin. Clothing or jewelry are spotted or soaked with it in different concentrations. Death seems to depend on the location of the contamination, how much poison was used and its concentration, the age of the victim – ”

“ So, it’s on our clothes?” one of the council members asked. “That’s... unfortunate.”

“With how potent the poison is, I doubt they would have risked threatening one of the regular cleaners into using it,” Cheery replied, desperately hoping she hadn’t just signed the death warrants for the entire laundry staff. 

“He does have a point,” an older wizard said. “But to be safe they should all be questioned. Perhaps they saw something amiss.”

Terref grinned. “Leave it to me, sir. I’ll get you answers.”

The first member to speak said, “Don’t kill or maim them all, Sargant. It would be a dreadful hassle to have to hire new ones. We do have spells for this sort of thing.” he glanced around the room. “In the meantime, have this all cleared out,” he waved his hand around the room. “And chain up that disgusting monster.”

Angua , who was in her usual corner, snarled loudly, making the shriveled man jump into another council member. Seeing the results,  Angua sneezed her amusement.

“Wouldn’t it be more prudent to allow me to figure out the full nature of the poison and make an antidote?” Cheery asked when the council members turned to leave.

“We will find the  poisoner and get answers from him or her and go from there. If we have need of you, we will let you know.”

The elders left, and  Terref stepped out into the hall to order other guard members into the room to take every single piece of equipment, books, and parchment out of the room. Every sample and scrap  was removed, leaving the long tables bare in a matter of minutes. Others came in and refastened the chains to  Angua’s collar and chained her once again to the wall, using an even bigger spike and much shorter chains.

As soon as they were left alone, Cheery went over to  Angua , sliding down the wall to sit on the floor next to the beast, who instantly laid her head in the woman’s lap. Absently, Cheery stroked  Angua’s fur. “I wonder what they’ll do to us,” she murmured. “they don’t seem all that interested in me making  an antidote.”

Angua grumbled, looking up at Cheery; if she’d been human, her forehead and eyebrows would’ve been wrinkled in worry.

“Maybe they’ll need a big, scary guard dog-wolf to scare some other poor sap.” She tried to smile. “If they decide to keep me on, I can always try to convince them I need you as my assistant and bodyguard. What do you think of that?”

Cheery was rewarded with a tail wag.

“We can only hope,” she said, her fingers starting  french braids of the beast’s long hair, starting behind her ear and down behind it by her jaw, one on each side and tying them off with spare stretch ties. “We can only hope.”

But hope is for fools and children.

They didn’t bring food for either of  them or come to let  Angua out to relieve herself that night. Cheery attempted to bring handfuls of water to  Angua , but there was never much left by the time she got to the opposite end of her prison where the beast was chained up.

“I’m going to move my cot over here  – ” Cheery started to say but was interrupted by  Angua’s loud growl. “what?” she asked.

Angua shook her head violently.

“You don’t want me over there?”

Angua barked twice, keeping her tone soft.

“Why?”

The beast growled at the door, and then looked back and Cheery and whined, making it clear she wanted to  protect her.

Cheery was torn between letting her companion guard her like she desired, and being close to her for what could be their last night together, if last night period.

In the end, she informed the beast she would move her cot closer, but on the wall away from the door so  Angua was still between them. The wolf stretched her chains to the maximum and lay down on the edge of Cheery’s cot so the dwarf could thread her fingers through her fur as she tried to sleep.

OoOoO

Breaking glass and  Angua’s snarls woke Cheery instantly.

The fire was still high enough it lit the room enough to show figures dropping out of broken skylights dressed head to toe in blacks and browns, their faces also wrapped to hide their identities – that had to be a good thing, right? – and armed to the teeth.

Angua was still snarling furiously, her ruff and hackles standing straight up as she lunged on the end of her chain; she was luckily on the right side of Cheery to protect her, this time.

Cheery scrambled to get next to Angua, yanking the blade out of her boot, watching the invaders advance on them when she heard the squeak of the hinges of the door opening. She turned to face the new threat of more people dressed the same as the others.

Cheery lashed out at them with her blade, startling them into keeping their distance for a brief moment until one intruder shot a crossbow bolt at her shoulder, grazing a wound on her upper arm; blood started soaking into the sleeve of her top almost immediately. A swordsman advanced on her, their blade much longer and stronger than hers; behind her, she heard  Angua snarl again, hear the chain rattle as she yanked on the end of her chains, trying to reach their attackers.

“Come with us,  _ quietly, _ and we won’t hurt you,” a third figure said, stepping forwards. “we’re very impressed with your work  here and feel your talents could be put to good use with us.”

“Who are you?” Cheery demanded, looking from one figure to the next. “What’s your guild?”

The speaker chuckled darkly. “Does it matter? We’re offering you your life. Do you really think you’ll live much longer here?”

No, not really.

“How do we know you’ll be any better?” asked Cheery hesitantly. It wasn’t like she would have much of a choice, one prison for another, but she was if anything a survivor, and so was Angua. 

“You’ll have all the books and equipment you desire,” the speaker said, their voice firm. “you will be allowed the freedom to roam outside, with an escort of course, for your safety.”

Cheery snorted. “A guard so I don’t run off, not my own protection. If you’re going to try to recruit us, at least be honest.”

“For both,” said the speaker with a shrug. “other guilds will be jealous and paranoid of you working for us.”

“Angua?” Cheery called. “What do you think?”

“We are only to bring you, not your monster.” the speaker said before  Angua could voice her opinion. “That is not negotiable.”

Cheery swallowed hard. “Sorry. We’re a package deal.  _ That _ is non-negotiable on  _ our _ end.” 

The speaker advanced again. “We will bring you in, one way or another. It is your choice to walk or be dragged.”

Angua barked once.

Cheery risked a glance back and the wolf. “ _ No! _ I am  _ not _ leaving you here!” she looked at the ring of figures around them, a small part in the back of her head wondering how they hadn’t attracted guards with all the noise. “I am not leaving her here!”

Angua snarled and barked once again.

Cheery risked another look at her friend, who motioned with her head towards the speaker and barked once again.

“ _ No _ . No.” Cheery knew either way her life wasn’t going to last much longer no matter where she was or who her captors were, and she would be damned if she betrayed the being who had become her best friend. With a glare at the speaker, she flipped the knife in her hand and placed the tip of the blade under her jaw, point upwards; a drop of blood ran down its length. “You really want me? You take us both, or not at all.” she said firmly to the speaker. “Your choice.”

Behind her, she could hear  Angua losing her mind snarling what was probably quite a few swear words in combination with sets of two barks.

The figure held up their hands in what could be considered a calming gesture. “Let’s not be hasty,” they said. “We are merely following orders. I don’t think they realized how attached you’d become to your beast.”

“ She’s my  _ friend _ .”

The figure sighed. “ So it would seem,” they hand-signed something to the second party; both units lowered their weapons. “I will see what I can do to convince our leaders when we arrive.”

It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was something. “I need to grab some things,” Cheery said, pointing at the fireplace. 

The speaker motioned. “Quickly.”

Cheery  lifted up the floorboard in front of the fireplace and fetched out her back with clothes, her first-aid supplies, and the talking paper. Hurrying over to the cot, she hastily shoved the blankets in as well. After that, she tightened the fastener belts of the top flap as far as they would go, slung it on her shoulder. “We’re ready.”

“Once we’re outside, we’ll have to cover your eyes,” the speaker informed her. “the entrance to where we must go is secret.”

Footsteps behind her; sawing.

Cheery glanced back to see two figures sawing the chains off at  Angua’s collar; a third had leveled their blade at her face to keep her from attacking the other two. More closed in around Cheery.

Something wasn’t right.

“Now,” ordered the figure. The figures seized Cheery’s arms and started to pull her towards the open door.

“Hey!” Cheery protested, trying to yank herself out of their hold. “I said we’d go with you, willingly! I can walk!”

Behind them,  Angua was snarling at those around her in fury.

The figure chuckled darkly. “As I  said; all we require is you.” They looked over Cheery’s shoulder. “Kill it.”

“No! Please, no!” Cheery screamed, lashing out, kicking at the ones holding arms, twisting and turning and fighting. “No, no, no, no,  _ noooo! _ ”

But they were too many, and after over a month of minimal food and extreme stress, Cheery was only strong enough to twist around as they pulled her around the doorframe and out into the hallway to see one of their attackers raise a large knife point down over his head, standing over a struggling Angua as others held the chains tightly so she couldn’t get up. Even slashing out with her claws and catching one on his side and making him fall away with a cry, there was another to take his place.

The man holding the blade stabbed downwards, right into  Angua’s body as Cheery was pulled from the room.

Angua’s pain-filled howl followed Cheery and her captors down the hall; a black bag was put over her head, absorbing her tears and anguished screams.

**Author's Note:**

> * = Sorry, FMA fans, for the animal-human hybrid reference, but it was RIGHT THERE
> 
> Working on chapter two already.


End file.
